


The Compound

by TellMeNoAgain



Series: So Much Trouble [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Domestic Fluff, Fix-It, M/M, Not Beta Read, Power Imbalance, Pre-Slash, Slow Burn, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:01:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21684955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TellMeNoAgain/pseuds/TellMeNoAgain
Summary: Read at your own risk.  Cute Peter has a crush (and Mr. Stark is crushing back, if you know where to look) and life as a superhero at the Compound.~~Peter realizes the weirdest part of this move is going to be all the free time on his hands now.  B.T., Before Titan, he’d had to juggle school and friends and work and patrolling and now, his work is patrolling and his friends are available only through text and school is- well, Mr. Stark keeps calling him an intern.  It’s all very flexible, and it feels very strange.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Series: So Much Trouble [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1562707
Comments: 7
Kudos: 92





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta read because I posted before I made friends.
> 
> I don't think this one has any triggers, but let me know and I can add more tags and warnings.
> 
> NOT ENDGAME COMPLIANT. (Let's be real here, this AU is barely MCU compliant.)
> 
> For completionists, DEAD DOVE warning, this series is going to be D/s Starker.
> 
> For prudes, these are fictional characters and I've double checked, no one actually has a skeevy real-life relationship as a result of this series, so, like, relax. No one is going to get hurt.

Peter doesn’t have much stuff, not that that’s unusual with this team. Most of Steve and Bucky’s stuff is still  _ in the Smithsonian _ . It all fits in three boxes and a couple of huge suitcases. Aunt May is quiet on the drive out to the Compound. It could be the limousine, or the beauty of the scenery, but Peter thinks she’s probably rehearsing what to say to Mr. Stark. It’s the way her lips twitch. Her job has been commuted to one at the Fantastic Four Tower, and she’s got an apartment there, now, which is included as part of base salary. It’s not quite bringing her into the fold, but she’s safer, under a higher level of supervision, and yet still somewhat anonymous. 

Aunt May has already lectured Mr. Stark multiple times on issues related to Peter, and Peter’s “home life” in the next few months. He’s graduated from high school, he had enough credits his junior year to graduate early if he’d wanted to, but still has to make it to August 26th before he’s graduated to being a full human being.    
  
He lost his parents young, and Aunt May and him have made it work, but it’s not the same thing his friends are going through, leaving home and family for the first time. Aunt May has always been so careful not to step into his mom’s shoes, always leaving that little bit of space between them. They never talk about it, there’s no need to talk about it, but, well. It’s not the same at all, and Peter is impatient to get through this transition and to the next stable space in his life.

~~~

When they arrive, SHIELD agents scan his things and carry them for him, until they reach the Avenger’s section. Then they dump the stuff- well, carefully place it on the floor- shake his hand, and leave. The keypad has a clear handprint zone and he places his on it, cautiously. The door flies open and he kicks two boxes in and manhandles the rest of the things behind him. Aunt May calls, “Hello?” and Ms. Potts’s voice calls, “In here, do you need a hand?”   
  
She appears out of a side hallway shortly, and she says, “Ms. May, how wonderful to see you again, do you remember me from the Accords? You met so many people. I’m Pepper Potts, Tony put me in charge of bunkhouse assignments here and at the Tower.”   
  
“You run the single biggest industry juggernaut in the world,” Aunt May tells her, her voice completely baffled by that non-introduction.    
  
Ms. Potts shrugs, “Well, and that, but Tony seems to think once his assistant, always his assistant, and it’s easier just not to argue. Anyway, this is the Avenger’s wing, and it has these hallways, off the main area. There’s a hallway for the SHIELD member of the Avengers, and one for the aliens, and the Wakandans, and the Californians, and then there’s the Stark wing, or hallway, and that’s where we’ve put Peter, as either Tony or myself will be present every day and night for the next few months.”   
  
Aunt May nods. “That’s what I asked for, I didn’t realize- couldn’t the other Avengers?”   
  
“Oh, yes, but Mr. Stark said he preferred the personal touch and honestly, we’ll try to get Peter to you often at the Tower this summer, too.” Ms. Potts is sunny and cheerful in her optimism as she leads them into a suite that is bigger than their entire apartment and far sleeker, too. There’s a bed in an alcove and a mini workshop, and office area, small kitchenette, and the room has the wildest spiderweb design all over the place, abstract but still present. The color scheme is metallic blues and reds and Peter loves every inch of it, it’s absolutely ridiculous. “You’ve got a similar room waiting for you at the Tower, Peter,” she informs him. “FRIDAY is around if you want to explore all the stash spaces in the walls or furniture, Tony likes to build like a squirrel.” Her voice is achingly fond.   
  
Aunt May says, “Do you want help unpacking, Peter?” in a hopeful tone of voice and he nods. She smiles at him and they dig through the first box. Ms. Potts helps him hang the framed poster of the periodic table over the sitting area, and it looks chintzy and ridiculous, but she declares, “Home. Now this is starting to look like a home,” so fondly that he doesn’t ask her to take it down. Aunt May is folding clothes into drawers, next to clothes that are already there- “Mr. Stark requested an upgrade to your wardrobe, it’s mostly for public appearances but there’s some team gear, and of course all the free samples in your size are up for grabs pretty generally,” assures Ms. Potts. “I threw some in, but you can go dig for yourself, whatever the team doesn’t want gets thrown to the baby SHIELD agents to be torn to shreds. Remember that anything seen on you gives the supplier a huge uptick in sales, but we’re all about rewarding that public support, so try to spread yourself around unless you really like a company’s mission statement.”   
  
Peter nods. He appreciates it when the people who regularly deal with this level of fame explain the small things they have to pay attention to, even if it’s completely overwhelming to realize he has to pay attention to the company’s mission statement before he puts on a t-shirt. May shakes her head and says, “What a different world, Ms. Potts.”   
  
“Yes,” agrees Ms. Potts. “He’ll get used to it, though. He’s young. They adapt. Tone and I will help as much as we can, and the rest of the team, when they’re around. Almost all of them have the same level of visibility, the same pressures, although of course, with Peter, his age, well. Tony can help with that, he did all that coming-of-age stuff under the public eye back in the day.”   
  
“Mm,” hums Aunt May. “He’ll be encouraging Peter to do it the  _ opposite way,  _ I hope. I remember Mr. Stark’s big splash.”   
  
Ms. Potts laughs, and says, “I swear to you, May Parker, that Peter will be surrounded by the kinds of work and role models that will give him every support to  _ not _ follow in Mr. Stark’s footsteps, and I will be absolutely ruthless about tattling if I even think he’s starting to stray down that path.”   
  
“Plus Mr. Stark put all that tracking software in KAREN,” says Peter absently, arranging his desk tchotchkes on the desk. “So it’s not like I can, what, sneak around and hire hookers and try cocaine behind anyone’s back. Pretty sure the Captain wouldn’t let me out on patrol unless my numbers were baseline peak condition.”   
  
There’s silence and then Aunt May says, “Peter Parker, if I ever hear you even joke about hiring other people for sex, exploiting women, I will-”   
  
“Chill, Aunt May,” he says, raising his hands, “it’s far more likely I can get the girls for free, have you seen the tweets about my adorable smile?- I’d probably be hiring  _ men _ .”   
  
Ms. Potts laughs a little, uneasily, and says, “Well, the gay community is secretly harboring a lot of lust, too, Spiderman, you probably wouldn’t have to hire anyone of any gender pronoun. Which of course we would much prefer.”   
  
“Oh my God,” says Aunt May, slamming the drawer shut.   
  
“Sorry,” laughs Ms. Potts. “I can promise you we’re joking now but we’d take it very seriously-”   
  
“Aunt May, I’m me, Peter Parker,” interrupts Peter, glaring at her. “I’m not going to change just because I have a bigger bedroom.”   
  
“You were a superhero before the bite,” she assures him. “Stay that way.”   
  
He sighs and rolls his eyes, “Yes, ma’am. Of course, I told you, KAREN has full 24/7 monitoring on me and anyway, I want to be good.”   
  
Ms. Potts bites her lip and he’d love to hear all the things she’s not letting herself say, but right now this moment is for calming Aunt May down, and that’s important, because her flight back to New York leaves in an hour and they’re not scheduled to see each other for two weeks, when Mr. Stark has a big meeting in New York and is going to fly in with Peter.   
  
“You are good, kiddo,” says Aunt May, and then her eyes fill with tears and he rushes over to hug her. “You are good. Your mom- your dad- would be so proud. Sissy would be so proud, Peter.”   
  
He’s been hearing about his parents his whole life, about how proud they’d be, how disappointed and suddenly, he realizes he only cares about what Aunt May thinks. “And you?” he mumbles into her shoulder. “You’re proud, too?”   
  
She sighs, and lifts his face and says, “The proudest. My kid, the Avenger.”   
  
“And America’s sweetheart superhero,” agrees Ms. Potts wryly. “Did you catch that segment?”   
  
“Oh yeah,” huffs Aunt May, releasing him and patting him on the shoulder. “Didn’t believe one word of it. He still drops his towels on the floor and crumbs everywhere, I had to take a dumptruck to get to his bed. Some sweetheart. Those teenage girls have no idea what living with him is actually like.”   
  
“We never do,” says Ms. Potts, smiling. “So, who was your celebrity crush?”   
  
“Oh, God,” chokes Aunt May. “Mel Gibson.”   
  
“Oh no, that- that did not age well,” chokes Ms. Potts.    
  
“I mean, the body did,” offers Aunt May. Peter snorts, just to remind them that’s he’s still here.   
  
Ms. Potts confides, “John F. Kennedy, Jr.” and Aunt May hoots, “Oh, no, not John John.”   
  
“Sexy millionaire playboy philanthropist, tall, dark, handsome, knows his designer labels, I realize now I have a type,” agrees Ms. Potts, a blush staining her cheeks.   
  
Aunt May hoots again, folding Peter’s underwear into a drawer, and the two of them chat about their teenage years and points of mutual connection until all of the boxes are unpacked.   
  
Peter stands in the room and has no idea what to feel. It’s a kick ass room. His stuff is here. He lives here, now.   
  
“Lunch,” says Ms. Potts decisively. “I think there’ll be just enough time before our flight back, Ms. Parker.”

“Call me May,” offers May. “How would you feel about being Peter’s guardian? I like you more than Stark.” Peter winces, because May has to know she’s talking to Mr. Stark’s  _ girlfriend _ right now, right? Rude.

“Delighted,” laughs Pepper. “And then we don’t have to try to track down Tony for a signature, we can get it done on the flight home.”

Peter sighs. It’s not even worth arguing about, who cares which adult has legal authority, but seriously,  _ he’s right here. _ He looks around the room as the women chatter their way out of it and feels a twitch between his shoulder blades. It’s hard to believe he had more control over his life B.T. than he does now, but he’s starting to realize just how far off the path of normal he’s veered.  _ I saved the world _ , he wants to complain, but he doesn’t know who to complain to.  _ Doesn’t that count for anything? _   



	2. Chapter 2

Natasha and Wanda are at the communal kitchen, hovering over a deep pot of something that smells foreign and delicious. “It’s borscht,” warns Wanda.   
  
“And delicious,” adds Natasha, tossing her hair and bumping Wanda’s hip with hers to make the younger woman smile. “Very much home, for both of us. Care to try?"

“I love borscht,” enthuses Ms. Potts, “Please, thank you for sharing, yes. Do you two-? There’s a whole commissary full of food, you can just tell FRIDAY what you want and she’ll send it through the dumbwaiter system.”   
  
“The dumbwaiter system?” asks Aunt May.   
  
“That’s what we’re calling it,” agrees Natasha cautiously. “It’s- Tony is ridiculous, it’s this tube system, they put the tray on it in the cafeteria, and it literally arrives here, in that- there-” and she points to something Peter thought was an extra oven in the wall. “Still warm. FRIDAY is amazing.”   
  
“Thank you, Black Widow,” says the AI. “Aunt May, Peter, is there anything I can get for you?”   
  
“Grilled cheese sandwich?” asks Peter. Aunt May nods and Ms. Potts says, “Ooh, all around, five grilled cheeses.”   
  
“Oh, I’ll need a couple, maybe three?” asks Peter. “Super-metabolism,” he announces, when they look at him. “Plus borscht.”   
  
Natasha smiles at him and begins dishing the treat out. “Ours is better than the cafeteria,” she states calmly, just sharing the information.   
  
“The cafeteria’s is cooked by a chef,” says Wanda, with a sniff. “Borscht is meant to be cooked by  _ family _ .”   
  
“We combined recipes,” explains Natasha, nodding her head in agreement. “The imperfections are part of the design.”   
  
Wanda nods and sits at the breakfast counter, blowing on her bowl. Natasha walks to the wall when a light comes on subtly, and turns with a covered platter that she opens to reveal about ten grilled cheese sandwiches. Wanda wafts one over and Aunt May startles. “Oh, sorry, May,” she says, abashed. “I didn’t think, we are usually so casual- I don’t usually have to think-” And Peter thinks she looks so young in that moment, caught out.   
  
Aunt May says carefully, “I don’t mind. I can get used to it. It’s your home. Peter’s always flipping to the ceiling these days, I can really can get used to anything.”   
  
Peter nods and slurps up his borscht, which is surprising but in a good way. It fits his mood- the comfort of the grilled cheese and the strangeness of the soup. He glances up to find Natasha watching him. She nods in approval, and he feels a flush creep up his cheeks. 


	3. Chapter 3

Later that afternoon, when he’s said his goodbyes to Aunt May and is wandering around the common space getting lost and getting found again with FRIDAY’s help, Natasha slides out from a room and says, “Peter, gym time? Come do agility with me.” So he follows her to the gym and he’s never trained with anyone else before, so he stands awkwardly until she demonstrates how the equipment works, explaining what each exercise is for until he can kind of guess how best to challenge himself. The repetitive work is soothing, if not too strenuous, and when they’re done she says, “We’ll figure out a way to challenge you tomorrow. For today, you did good. Agility is your best skill set, like me.” She pauses, and then says, “I am so glad you chose this, Piotr. I didn’t like to think of you, out in the cold, struggling. It’s much better, here, where there are people to watch your back and help push you.”   
  
He nods, thinking of what little he knows of her past, and matching it up to his experiences. There’s not much overlap, but it’s there, he can see it, and it seems like she can, too. “Thanks, Natasha,” he says. “I think it was the right choice, too.”   
  
She nods and turns, saying, “This is our- the SHIELD quarters in the Avengers wing, all of us down this hallway. Mine is the second door on the right. If you need me- need someone- tell FRIDAY, she’ll let you in.”   
  
His throat tightens and he says, “Thanks, thanks, Ms. Ro- Natasha, ma’am. Thank you.”   
  
“Go shower. I think we’ll do dinner at six. FRIDAY?”   
  
“I will alert those Avengers onsite and without prior engagements,” assures FRIDAY.   
  
“Thanks,” responds Natasha, turning to push the door to the SHIELD quarters open.   
  
“Thanks, Natasha,” says Peter.   
  
“Yes,” she says, not turning back. “Welcome to the team,” she says, as she steps through the door.   
  
Peter feels warmth in his chest start to bloom for the first time all day. He decides to stop getting lost and to go to his room and throw on a movie and text MJ and Ned about Mr. Stark’s decorating scheme, because they have  _ got to come see him _ sometime this summer break, before they head out to college, and there’s no time like the present to begin laying the groundwork for that.

~~~

At 5:55, FRIDAY chimes delicately and says, “Mr. Parker, dinner?”

“Oh, yeah, be right there,” says Peter.

When he gets to the kitchen, Mr. Stark and Bruce and Natasha are already there.

“Usually I don’t, I stick to the lab,” Bruce tells him, by way of greeting, “but I hear you moved in today and dinner seemed like a nice way to welcome you, so, surprise, it’s Tandoori.”

Peter smiles and says, “Thanks, Dr. Banner, I love Indian!”

“I brought naan,” announces Tony, gesturing to a plate. “Sit, sit, we never eat like a family anymore, where has all the love gone?”

Natasha rolls her eyes and Peter chuckles. Bruce dishes up plates and says, “Plenty more, this is just, uh, first helpings.”

“Is it just us in the Compound?”asks Peter, digging in carefully- super sensitive also means super taste, too.

Mr. Stark nods, “Cap is out on field maneuvers with Sam, Wanda and Vision have been doing their spooky thing in England, so who knows if they’ll want us to cramp their style, the Wakandans keep to Wakanda during the work week, Bucky included, and the Asguardian is helping his people get settled on their colony. Antman is on hiatus trying to scrape a life back together, Dr. Strange is strange, Clint keeps claiming to really be retired-“ he slants a glance at Natasha, who shrugs- “and Rhodey technically works for the US Government so that’s where we’re at. It’ll ebb and flow, there’s a rhythm, you get used to it.”

Bruce and Natasha nod.

Peter realizes the weirdest part of this move is going to be all the free time on his hands now. B.T., Before Titan, he’d had to juggle school and friends and work and patrolling and now, his work is patrolling and his friends are available only through text and school is- well, Mr. Stark keeps calling him an intern. It’s all very  _ flexible,  _ and it feels very strange.

~~~

  
In the morning, he’s eating cereal in the kitchen when Mr. Stark stumbles in, ignores him, and goes straight to the coffee machine. After he finishes his first cup, Peter sitting in silence, concentrating on his own coffee, he says, “Hey, lab today? Want to show you, you can come, think Bruce wants to do some tests, he always wants to do tests.”   
  
Peter nods. Natasha bounds into the room in workout gear and says, “Oh, hey, training this afternoon? After lunch?”   
  
“ _ My  _ intern,” reminds Mr. Stark, biting into a donut.    
  
“ _ My  _ teammate who needs to train, or I’m going to accidentally shoot him when he zigs instead of zags,” counters Natasha, and Peter startles, wondering if that’s a possibility. She smiles sharply at him and that’s- that’s  _ unsettling _ .   
  
“ _ My _ science experiment, apparently,” chuckles Bruce, entering the kitchen space. “I do need to do a baseline medical exam, Peter, so that if any weird stuff comes up, and it will come up, it’s half of the definition in our charter- I can try to get you back to baseline.”   
  
“Well, Bruce wins,” says Mr. Stark with mock disappointment. “He’ll have him hooked up to machines for days.”   
  
“It’s not that bad,” protests Bruce when Peter looks at him in shock. “Just standard sports science labs, for the most part.”   
  
Natasha snorts. “Well, then, later, Piotr, let me know when you have the time.” She jogs off, presumably to begin her own training. He has no idea how many hours a day she must work out to maintain her current peak but he’s guessing it’s most of it.   
  
“Aww, she gave you a nickname,” teases Mr. Stark. “How did you two get so close so fast?”   
  
Peter shrugs and then says, “I dunno, she taught me how to dance, maybe it’s like when you train a dog to sit and you feel all connected to them?”   
  
Bruce chuckles, “Or maybe she just fell for America’s Sweetheart,” and Peter groans.    
  
“I mean, it’s good, I’m glad, J. Jonah looks like a conspiracy theorist,” he babbles, “but seriously, did you have to post that video, Mr. Stark? Everyone is so goopy about it. There’s all these polls online, it’s so gross, I’m not Justin Bieber.”   
  
“Spidermania,” agrees Mr. Stark, giving him a sympathetic look, “But making you the face of Gen Z is actually ideal for our purposes. I promise we’ll let you work out your issues about that by punching badguys in the dick. Don’t Miley on me.”   
  
“A little hypocritical, Miley was Tony-Starking through that phase,” comments Bruce, “but not wrong. The image will grow up with you, Peter, we won’t let you get trapped in that narrative, but for now, it’s washing out a bunch of bad taste and we need you to-”   
  
“Go with it, I know,” sighs Peter. “It’s just, I’m- I mean, it’s so gross. I’m almost an adult, I went to Titan, I faced Thanos, and now I’m like this joke.”   
  
“People need symbols,” begins Mr. Stark, sharing a glance with Bruce, and Peter holds up a hand and says, “Oh, God, not the Captain America speech, he already gave me that one. He got to be a symbol of, like, manhood and virility and I’m a symbol of ‘adorkable,’ Mr. Stark, don’t- don’t try to say- they’re comparing me to a goddamn puppy out there.”   
  
“Stop googling your name,” grins Mr. Stark, “I told you-”   
  
“I haven’t,” protests Peter, “I have  _ friends _ , who  _ live in the real world _ , and who share the embarrassing shit with me. Ned and MJ dig around for it, they found  _ fanfiction _ about me.”   
  
“Then get better friends,” directs Mr. Stark, “or learn to fight fire with fire. I don’t know, kid, we kept you out of jail, but I can’t protect you from your friends bullying you because they’re jealous, that’s, that’s wildly outside of my job description.”   
  
“Talk to Sam when he gets back,” suggests Bruce, pouring hot water into a bowl of oatmeal. “He’ll have some ideas for you.”   
  
“What, the therapist?!” says Peter, aghast. “I do not need therapy for memes that are attacking my manhood.”   
  
“I mean, you might,” says Mr. Stark, smiling at him. “It seems to be bothering you.”   
  
“Talk to Sam,” says Bruce again, stirring his oatmeal and gathering up an apple.   
  
“Jesus  _ Christ,”  _ swears Peter, tossing his dishes in the sink.   
  
“Language,” laughs Mr. Stark.   
  
“Ready for the lab?” asks Bruce brightly.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have more scenes plotted out, but they're definitely not ready for sharing.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to pop into the comments with encouragement, or ideas for other scenes you want to see of life at the Compound for Peter in the first few weeks, it might generate some plot-weasels! I won't handle criticism well, unless you and I have a baseline understanding, so I guess keep that to yourself or tell a friend, whichever one you want to do. Thanks for reading!


End file.
